


Tendencies

by queerinthenorth



Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 06:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14014050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerinthenorth/pseuds/queerinthenorth
Summary: Papa punishes a Ghoul who had ignored him





	Tendencies

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely my buddy, Tyler's fault.

My breath caught in my chest as I caught Papa II’s eye from across the room

_ 'Why is he looking at me? Is there something on my mask?’ _ I thought, fiddling with my horns in an attempt to calm myself down.

I returned to my prayers and when I turned back to look at him again, he had disappeared.

I dismissed the thoughts flittering through my mind and left but not long after, I felt a presence behind me.

I began to pick up the pace in an attempt to get away from who or whatever was following me as my heart beat out of my chest.

“It's awfully rude to not acknowledge your Papa, you know.” A smooth, yet dangerous voice said behind me, sounding so close yet so far all at once.

I stopped walking and turned around to see Papa down the hall from me, seemingly following me but he could be just minding his own business.

Before I knew it, Papa was behind me and pressing me up against the wall.

“Do you know how I punish those who ignore me? Would you like to find out?” he hissed in my ear, tongue darting around the edge of my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

“Y-yes Papa.” I stuttered, getting warmer as I thought about every wicked and naughty thing he could do to me, and how little I would do to stop him from having his way with me.

“Then come with me.” he breathed in my ear, letting me up just to grab my wrist in his vice grip and forcing me to follow behind him.

Soon, we had entered a room that was rather bare and minimalistic but beautiful and breathtaking in its own way.

It had to be his office? His bedroom? I wasn't entirely sure but it was undeniably his.

It smelt of cigars, scotch, a smell I remembered smelling on myself after I had been turned into a ghoul, and something that was unplaceable yet oddly comforting.

“Strip and sit here,” he said pointing at a chair that seemed oddly grand in this bare room. “I will be back in a moment.” he left through a different door and I was left wondering exactly what he was going to do to me.

I did as he instructed, but before I sat, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

I stared at myself for a moment, inspecting the scars on my chest, and running my eyes down to the soft tummy I could never seem to get rid of and the slightly above average cock that hung between my thighs.

_ 'I should probably sit down before he gets back.’  _ I thought to myself, sitting down and slightly shivering at the feel of cold leather on my bare ass.

Before long, Papa had re-entered the room, wearing form fitting leather pants and carrying a knife that was oddly beautiful.

He walked over to me and pressed the knife to my throat, not enough to cut me, but enough to make me fear moving without his permission.

“Why shouldn't I just open your pretty little throat right here, right now? Perhaps I should cover you in enough cuts that you’ll be reminded of me everytime you remove your outfit.” he hissed, trailing the knife down my body, leaving little cuts here and there, my breath hitching with every cut.

My cock began to stir as Papa cut me over and over, the pain serving not to shame me, but to awaken a part of me that had long been asleep.

“Are you enjoying this you sick little whore? Do you enjoy your Papa treating you like the worthless piece of shit you are?”

“Answer me!” he snapped, slapping my thigh with all his might, so I would be forced to pay attention to him.

“N-no, Papa, I-I’m not, I swear!” I said, trying to resist grinding into his hand as they rested on my thighs.

“Are you trying to anger me?” he asked, roughly gripping my cock.

“Let's see if you enjoy this. Get on your knees.” he demanded, shoving me off the chair and sitting on it himself, opening his pants and letting his cock spring free.

I knelt before him, staring up at him, knowing what I wanted to do, but unsure of what he had in mind.

He grabbed his cock and rubbed the tip against my lips.

“Open up.” He said, pushing the tip between my lips and pressing into my mouth.

I opened my mouth wider to accommodate his considerable girth, and took as much of it as I could in my mouth, feeling it hit the back of my throat.

Papa tangled his hands in my hair, and began fucking my mouth, slow at first, but then faster and faster as the lust fogged his mind and caused him to lose some control over his actions.

He pulled out just before he came, and shot his cum on my face.

“Now everyone can see just how filthy you are. If you even think about cleaning your face before I am finished with you, I will invite everyone to come see how you grovel for my cock, how much you enjoy having cum all over your face.”

I tried to suppress a moan at his words, just imagining how it would feel to watch everyone walk past me and see how depraved I truly am.

“Turn around.” he said, getting himself ready for another round.

I rested on my forearms, with my forehead on the floor and my ass spread and in the air, just waiting for Papa to do his worst.

I let out a cry as Papa pressed the head of his cock into me, stretching me in a way that was so wrong but felt so damn right.

Breathing got harder and harder as Papa picked up the pace and slammed into me with all his might.

As he slammed into me, he gripped onto my shoulder with one hand, and wrapped the other around my throat and began to cut off the blood flow to my head.

I could feel myself blacking out but he let up and the blood rushed back to my head just before, giving me a high I’ve never felt before.

I came with a loud cry as Papa dug his claws into my shoulder, and called me some names I couldn't understand.

I felt utterly exhausted, only staying in position because Papa was holding me like that. Soon, I felt my ass fill with his seed and he pulled out, letting me collapse to the floor, and take a moment to recover.

Papa gently scooped my exhausted body into his arm and muttered, “You did so well, little one. I’m so proud of you. Let me take care of you while you recover.” 

He set me in a bath of warm water and I immediately had to resist the urge to fall asleep as the water soothed my aching muscles and Papa began to wash me while humming a tune I didn't recognize.

Perhaps it was a few moments, or an hour, but soon Papa pulled the tub’s plug and helped me out of the bath so I could dry off.

I leaned against him as he wrapped his arm around my waist and helped me climb into bed.

“Sweet dreams, little one.” he whispered, sitting next to me and singing me to sleep.


End file.
